


Pleasant Inconveniences

by Sarek and Amanda Archive Maintainer (Selek)



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: F/M, Saidicam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-25
Updated: 2013-03-25
Packaged: 2017-12-06 10:02:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/734420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selek/pseuds/Sarek%20and%20Amanda%20Archive%20Maintainer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The old "stuck in an elevator" challenge.  But hey, the idea was to write a short story, but a particularly original one.</p><p>Written by Saidicam.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pleasant Inconveniences

**Author's Note:**

> Can I have a big shout-out to beta-master Selek, archivist extraordinaire?

Pleasant Inconveniences  
Author: Saidicam29  
Characters: Sarek, Amanda  
Rating: G

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek. And Star Trek does not own me. Although for the right amount, they could.

Summary: The old "stuck in an elevator" challenge. But hey, the idea was to write a short story, but a particularly original one. 

Can I have a big shout-out to beta-master Selek, archivist extraordinaire?

 

Pleasant Inconveniences

Ambassador Sarek and his chief advisor Soran hustled towards the turbo-lift (with the fastest pace possible while maintaining a respectable decorum, of course) well ahead of their security detail, who were preoccupied with holding back a barrage of reporters. Soran depressed the button that would call a lift car to their level then both turned to watch their guards struggle against the tide, reporters of various alien origins shouting questions past them.

"They will not be able to hold them much longer," Sarek observed quietly. "The security promised by the Quivar government leaves much to be desired."

"As does their turbo service," commented Soran as he turned back to press the call button several more times. "I suggest when we arrive at the suite we call a meeting with the other delegates to discuss postponing the Loursan vote until a more suitable location can be found."

"Agreed," Sarek said as he watched a smattering of reporters get around the flank of his guards; then chaos ensued as more broke through and the guards broke formation to intercede them.

Soran stepped in front of the ambassador, arms spreads to both protect Sarek and placate the eager journalists - a last line of defense. "The ambassador has no comment at this time," Soran shouted to be heard over their yelling, but his words were ignored and the reporters continued to squeeze against Soran and the guards, who had now formed a semi-circular barrier blocking Sarek and the turbolift from the reporters.

Sarek stepped back, making no comment. His eyes scanned the crowd with seeming casualness, but his gaze was alert, always looking for an unexpected attack. So intent on the chaos before him, Sarek didn't hear the soft chime of an approaching turbo-car, nor the sound of the doors sliding apart.  
"Ambassador Sarek," a soft, accented voice called from behind him.

Sarek spun around to see a slight human female standing profile in the opened lift doors, preventing the car from being called to another floor. He moved into the car, and Soran moved back to better block the turbolift doors while the guards remained in tight formation around them all.

"Excuse me," the woman asserted, attempting to squeeze past Soran, but he was firming blocking the door, his back to her, and his attention too focused on the throng before him to notice the woman's polite request.

The woman glanced at Sarek, biting her lower lip in agitation then lifted her hand to tap the Vulcan on the shoulder. Sarek saw her hand pause mere centimeters from Soran, her unease clearly evident. Taking a deep breath, the woman gave Soran a single tap on the shoulder and tried again, this time her voice much louder, her tone more demanding. "Excuse me!"

Soran turned around, still blocking the doorway, and firmly ushered the woman further into the car. "I will meet you at the suite," he told Sarek, then quickly programmed the lift to stop at each floor on the way up. He stepped back out of the car, turning back to the crowd.

"Wait!" the woman called out, rushing forward to prevent the doors from closing, but she was too late.

Sarek continued to observe the woman quietly as the car set into motion. Her face was flushed, her hands fisted tightly at her sides. She took several deep breaths then turned towards Sarek, stabbing him with a glare so furious it caused a hitch in his own respirations. Sarek straightened, trying to look commanding, and raised a brow in quiet inquisition. When she provided no enlightenment, but instead turned back to the door, Sarek carefully moved another step backwards, putting as much distance between them as possible.

"You...intended to get off," Sarek commented, attempting to convey apologies for what he believed was the cause of the woman's demeanor.

"No," the woman replied, her tone much lighter than it had been earlier. "I enjoy riding in turbolifts." She turned towards him again, meeting his gaze, her nose wrinkling thoughtfully. "I guess you could call it a hobby."

Her sarcasm was not lost on Sarek, although he was puzzled by the ferocity of her attitude towards him. Surely a few moments delay in leaving the building did not warrant this much anger?

She turned her gaze back to the doorway as the car stopped and the doors opened to allow non-existent passengers to debark. It seemed an exceedingly long time before the doors closed again, and they continued their journey upward, stopping at each floor as the settings demanded. The lift was silent as the woman continually watched the indicator light roll through the panel as they ascended to each floor, and Sarek continued to watch her speculatively.

The woman closed her eyes, tilting her head back and rolling it from side to side, stretching. A sudden jolt to the car caught them both by surprise, and the woman was almost knocked off her feet, but she caught herself on the safety bar that lined the interior walls of the car. Her bag had a worse fate, however, as it slid off her arm in the jostle and fell, spilling its contents across the turbolift floor. She didn't seem to notice as her gaze snapped to the indicator lights, her breathing suspended as she waited for the next light to appear. "What happened?" she asked anxiously.

Sarek followed the woman's gaze to the light panel then returned to her. "It would seem we have stopped between floors."

"Why? Why did we do that?"

"Unknown."

Starved for air, the woman was forced to take a deep breath, then another, the act replenishing not just her oxygen, but also her control. "Okay," she murmured so quietly Sarek wasn't sure if she was talking to him or to herself. "There must be a comm unit of some sort – something we can call for help on."

Sarek glanced quickly about the car. "I do not think so."

The woman looked his way, appalled. "No! There must be. Maybe it's hidden behind a panel or something." She moved forward, heedless of her belongings scattered beneath her feet, and began running her hands along the walls beside the door.

"Why?" Sarek asked curiously.

"Why what?" she asked absently as she kneeled and continued to search the bottom of the paneling for a hidden compartment.

"Why must there be a comm. unit in this lift?"

The woman let out an impatient sigh. "Because there must be some means of reaching someone in case of an emergency." She sat back on her haunches wearily, having finished her examination and found nothing. "There's always a comm. unit in turbo lifts," she squeaked.

"Ah," Sarek said, nodding his head in understanding, then just as quickly shook it side to side. "You are incorrect. I have been to many places where no such feature existed." He squatted down and began to collect the woman's things that had fallen near him. This seem to finally draw her attention to the floor, and she also began to collect her things, stuffing them unceremoniously back into her bag.

"So, what? We're stuck here until someone finally notices one of the lifts isn't working?"

He placed some items into her bag then continued to help her pick up. "Sometimes they have automatic alerting systems."

"Sometimes?" she barked, laughing derisively. "This is your fault, you know. Why did he program it to stop so much?!"

Sarek's eyes snapped to hers upon hearing the accusation. "That is illogical. The lift is designed to stop at each floor in the building; it would not be the cause of a malfunction. As to why, it is so no one in the lobby will know on which floor I debark."

"That's really some life you lead," she muttered angrily as she grabbed more items from his hand and continued collecting her scattered belongings.

"It has its moments," Sarek uttered back, grabbing the last item he could reach and holding it out to her. When she grabbed for it he did not let go, his actions causing her to stop and look at him directly. "Worse case scenario," he said with deliberate calmness, "when my aides arrive at the suite and see I am not there they will search for me, and realize what has happened."

The woman stared at him for a long moment then her features softened, a slight smile crossing her lips. "Thank you," she said humbly. "I'm sorry. I'm not usually this…"

"Rude?" Sarek offered.

"Upset was kind of what I was going for." She smiled again, more broadly. "I don't like being in confining places."

Sarek nodded, returning to a standing position. "I, too, prefer more open areas."

The woman looked up at him, surprised. "Yeah...but Vulcans aren't claustrophobic. I really start to panic in closed places."

"Are we not?" Sarek asked sardonically. "Forgive me, I did not know."

The woman blushed furiously, again chewing at her lower lip. "I just meant you don't seem affected by being stuck in here." She sighed, looking down at her hands, and for the first time noticed she held a deck of playing cards. "Do you play?" she asked, holding the cards up for him to see.

"No."

The woman frowned. "Well, maybe I could teach you?" She gestured for him to sit on the floor across from her.

"For what purpose?"

The woman sighed, her face contorting with some emotion Sarek could not identify in the short time it was present. "It would give me something to do, and...make the time pass faster, and...is it really logical to just stand there staring at the walls?"

Sarek paused, then without a word gathered his robes around himself and squatted, bracing his back against the wall for support.

"Okay," she uttered then began to open her cards.

"No," he said simply.

The woman looked up at him. "No?"

Sarek shook his head, confirming.

"Then what are we going to do?"

"Converse," he said simply, making himself more comfortable by resting his elbows on his thighs and loosely clasping his hands before him.

"Conversation hasn't worked well for us so far," she pointed out, her voice filled with doubt.

"True, but then it can do nothing but improve from here."

She smiled, nodding reluctantly, then placed her cards inside her bag and put it aside. "Okay," she folded her hands on her lap expectantly. "What do you want to converse about?"

Sarek took a deep breath, tilting his head as he watched the female curiously. "Have we perhaps met before? I have the distinct impression I have offended you in some way."

The woman smiled again. "No, we've never met."

Sarek noted she did not address the issue of offence. "I am curious how you knew me by name. I am not generally well known among Quivarian citizens."

"I'm not a Quivarian citizen," she said simply.

"Then you are a reporter."

The woman's mouth dropped open in surprise. "How dare you, sir," she laughed lightly. "Now I am offended."

Sarek held his hands up defensively. "Forgive me. So, we have never met before, you are not a Quivarian citizen, but you are also not a reporter." He waited for several moments, expecting her to elaborate. "And you are not particularly forthcoming."

She laughed again, a sound Sarek was beginning to be partial to. "All right. I know you because I am from San Francisco."

Sarek shook his head at her faulty logic. "I can generally walk among San Francisco unrecognized as well. Are you a political logician?"

"No, not at all; but I do live quite near your embassy and – much like today – there have been several occasions where you have usurped my plans and ruined my evening." She gave a placating smile.

Sarek's eyes widened in surprise. "Indeed? Then it seems I have caused offense."

She waved off his statement, her gaze locked demurely onto her own lap.

"I am curious…since I do know we have never been stuck in a turbo lift together before, in what ways have I inconvenienced you?"

"Well," she said, bringing her gaze back up to meet his, "I happen to be partial to eating at the Ambassador Hotel," understanding dawned, and Sarek nodded knowingly, "and you must be as well, since you seem to throw receptions there on a fairly regular basis. And when Ambassador Sarek decides to throw a shing-dig at the hotel, lowly school teachers like me are turned away."

"You are a teacher?"

The woman faltered in her speech, nodding hesitantly. "Oh, and just recently I had wanted to go to the theatre," her brow creased in concentration, "I don't recall the name of the play, but it was some traveling company that was only here for a short time--"

"Tul'ok Varizank," Sarek named the play instantly, as there were very few that he bothered to attend in the city, "performed by a company of Vulcan thespians."

"Yes, well, my boyfriend had wanted to surprise me by going there for my birthday, and I was so excited because I really wanted to see it, but when we arrived we learned the Vulcan embassy had bought out the entire show." She gave him an accusing look.

"However, you did see it the following night?"

"No." She shifted her position, bending her legs to one side. "It was such a short showing, and with no one in the city seeing it opening night, the demand for the remaining tickets was astronomical. I never got a chance to go."

"I see," Sarek shrugged apologetically. "I happen to know the company is still planetside. There are showings in various locations: .New York, Paris, Italy. I could get a schedule for you."

"Thank you, but no. I could hardly afford to travel all that way just to see a play."

Sarek had just opened his mouth to speak when the car jolted again, hard, silencing the Vulcan while a small shriek of surprise escaped from the woman, but the car began to move! Both of them quickly stood, an air of relief and triumph filling the car as the next floor's indicator light came on, and the doors open. The woman reached for her bag and began to exit, stopping only when Sarek called to her. "Where are you going?"

The woman stepped back into the doorway to keep them from closing. "This is my floor," she explained. "I'm giving up on the idea of going out tonight." She smiled at him warmly. "I'm not sure I really believe you have claustrophobia, Ambassador, but I do want to thank you for helping me with mine." She stepped back out of the doorway, giving a short wave as the doors began to close.

She had just turned around when the thunk of the door sensing an obstruction and quickly opening back up caught her attention. She turned around to see Sarek's arm protruding from between the doors, and they opened to reveal the Vulcan. "That's dangerous, you know."

He ignored her comment. "You never told me your name," he reminded her, a hand against the door jamb ensuring they did not attempt to close again.

"Amanda," she said shyly. "Amanda Grayson."

"Perhaps, Amanda Amanda Grayson," he teased gently, "when we both return to San Francisco, we shall meet again...when I am no doubt inconveniencing you in some other way."

Amanda smiled, nodding pleasantly. "Perhaps we will," she agreed. "I look forward to it, Ambassador."

"Sarek," he corrected her. "Actually, I will be dining privately at the Ambassador Hotel in four days time."

"I see." Her eyes slowly roamed the length of his body, then met his eyes once more. "Thanks for the warning." She turned again to go.

"It seems to me," Sarek said, causing her to turn to him once again, "that I owe you a meal at that very establishment."

Amanda wrapped her arms around her waist. "Actually, by my count, you owe me at least three."

"Is that correct?" She nodded, and the turbolift buzzed an alarm at Sarek for obstructing it for so long. He ignored it. "Then it seems we must take action to rectify the situation."

"Is that correct?" she parroted.

Sarek stepped back into the lift. "Fours day, seven o'clock your time," he called out as the doors slid closed between them.

Amanda watched as the indicator panel above the doors showed he had ascended to the next floor. Turning back to head towards her room, Amanda playfully swung her bag back and forth, her mood light as she considered the Vulcan she'd just met. "Fascinating!" she aloud, laughing in delight.

 

The End


End file.
